Love According to Science Page 3

  “I guess at some point, but this apartment isn’t bad. Tell him he doesn’t have to worry. You guys have enough going on with the baby coming.”

  “I know, life is crazy, right? I still can’t quite believe I’m making an entirely new human.”

  “Yep. You literally have a person inside you.”

  “I’m not going to lie, it’s kind of creepy. But I already love this little intruder, even though he or she likes to kick me from the inside.”

  I pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. “I’m so glad I’m a guy.”

  She laughed. “Anyway, I know you just moved, but maybe you should consider getting a bigger place. Something a little more permanent?”

  “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

  It was pretty cool how much my sister wanted me to stay in the area. We’d always been close, but it had been a long time since we’d lived near each other. After college, I’d moved a couple of times for work—once to Massachusetts, and then to northern California. With her expecting her first baby, I’d decided I wanted to be around for that, if I could make it happen. Be the cool uncle? Sounded great to me.

  Not that I was cool, strictly speaking. I was a data geek who wore glasses and loved comic books, and who tended to be socially awkward more often than not. But at thirty-three, I wasn’t shy or self-conscious about my nerdiness anymore. I was good with who I was. And hell, even a nerd could be a cool uncle.

  But this apartment was fine for now. I didn’t need more than the one bedroom. And I didn’t want to admit it to my sister, but if I had more space, it would just be a constant reminder that I didn’t have anyone to share it with.

  “So tell me about your job,” Molly said.

  “I’m going to be the lead data analyst for the psychology research department at Woodward College.”

  “Also known as resident math genius.”

  I laughed a little. “Something like that. They do a lot of cool stuff there. I haven’t seen it yet, but their motion capture lab is state of the art. And I’ll have the opportunity to do some of my own research.”

  “That’s so exciting. Watch out, if you start giving your questionnaire to scores of research subjects, you’re going to wind up a groomsman in a lot more weddings.”

  I’d already been in at least a dozen weddings—couples who’d used my questionnaire and gone on to get married. “Professional hazard, I guess.”

  “At least weddings have cake.”

  “Usually. Although the last one I went to didn’t. Can you believe it? They were both eating low carb or something, so they had a cheese and fruit platter instead of cake.”

  “Oh my god. That’s a travesty. I hope you started a food fight.”

  “I should have.”

  She laughed. “I probably would have cried. But I’m also very pregnant and possibly a little bit irrational when it comes to food.”

  I heard Martin’s voice in the background. “Very irrational.”

  “You’re the one who knocked me up. You get to live with the consequences. Sorry, Corban, my husband likes to play with fire. Anyway, have you called Mom and Dad yet?”

  My smile fell. “No, not yet.”

  “Well, don’t forget. They’re going to be so excited for you.”

  Were they, though? My parents hadn’t approved of my choice to leave my last job, especially without having a new one lined up. I hadn’t told them that I had plenty of money. It wasn’t any of their business, and it wouldn’t have changed their opinion anyway. They didn’t exactly approve of most things I did, so it was easier to just let them think what they wanted.

  “Yeah, I’ll call them.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Not really. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to worry about being shunned in the cafeteria at lunch.”

  She laughed again. “They better not shun you or I’ll come down there and… well, I’m too pregnant to do much more than yell at people, but I could use lots of obscenities.”

  “Thanks, weirdo.”

  “You got it, twinkie. Text me on Monday and tell me how it goes. And don’t forget to hit send.”

  “I won’t.”

  We finished our goodbyes and I set down my phone. I went to the fridge to grab a beer and took it to the couch.

  I’d told Molly the truth—I wasn’t nervous about starting my new job on Monday. But what I hadn’t mentioned was the potentially hostile situation I was walking into.

  Hazel Kiegen. Ms. Angry Hot Librarian.

  She didn’t like me, and the feeling was mutual. I wasn’t sure how this was going to work, but a little rivalry didn’t scare me. Besides, once I had the funding to conduct a full-fledged study of my theory and questionnaire, I’d show her I had cracked the code to falling in love.

  For most people, at least.

  And hopefully by Monday, my brain signals and dick signals wouldn’t be so mixed. I’d never felt something so intense for a woman before. How could I hate her and still be so attracted to her? It didn’t make any sense.

  Maybe my brain was confusing hate for lust.

  There was research to support that. Studies on elite athletes showed they typically framed their physical symptoms before a high-pressure athletic event—elevated heart rate, so-called butterflies in the stomach, and so forth—as excitement. Other people framed the same sensations as anxiety or nervousness. The difference wasn’t in the symptoms, it was in the way their brains interpreted the data their body sent.

  My brain was obviously misinterpreting the data. I wasn’t attracted to Hazel Kiegen. I disliked her. It was the intensity of that feeling that had caused the confusion.

  I was sure my dick would get the message the next time I saw her, and stay out of it.

  Hopefully.

  I finished my beer and ate some leftovers for dinner. I went to toss the to-go box in the trash, but it was already full.

  That was the thing about living alone. There wasn’t anyone else around to make a mess, but there wasn’t anyone else to help clean up either.

  I grabbed the trash bag, made sure I had my keys in my pocket—I’d locked myself out a couple of times already and didn’t want to do it again—and took it out into the hall.

  “Hey, Corban.”

  I shut my door and glanced at my neighbor. Paisley Hayes stood in front of her door, holding her keys, a smile on her face. Her thick blond hair was wavy around her shoulders and her pink lipstick stood out against her skin.

  “Hi, Paisley.”

  “Taking out the garbage?”

  I glanced down at the trash bag, wondering why she was asking such an obvious question. “Yeah.”

  “Cool.” Her keys dangled from her hand, but she wasn’t making any attempt to unlock her door. “Do you have any plans for later?”

  “Not really. I might go the gym and shoot some hoops.”

  “Oh yeah? I don’t have plans either.”

  Wasn’t it a Friday? It seemed like she usually went out on Fridays. I glanced around the hallway as if there’d be a calendar somewhere. “Isn’t it Friday?”

  “It better be, because I am not going in to work tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, it would suck to make that mistake and get fired.”

  Her smile faded a little. “Yeah.”

  “Well, have a good night.”

  “I was hoping to do something with Molly tonight, but she said she’s too tired,” she said quickly. “I guess pregnancy would be tiring. So, no plans.”

  Paisley had been my sister’s best friend since high school. But we’d existed on rungs of the social ladder that were so far apart, they might as well have been different worlds. I’d been nothing but her best friend’s nerdy twin brother. Totally beneath her notice.

  That hadn’t stopped me from having the world’s biggest crush on Paisley Hayes. At seventeen, I’d been a lovesick puppy, a total idiot who’d given over self-control to the whims of teenage hormones.

  Now, though? I wondered what I’d ever seen in h
er. She was pretty—almost any guy would think so—and she knew how to maximize her physical advantages to attract members of the opposite sex.

  But she and I had almost nothing in common. And I knew from Molly that over the years, she’d dated a string of guys, all variations on the same theme—good-looking assholes. I wasn’t her type, and one thing I’d learned working for social media and dating app developers was that most people had a type and stuck to it.

  She wasn’t my type either. She was just my sister’s friend, and she was fine as a neighbor. She’d even given me the lead on this apartment when I’d been looking for a place to live.

  “Okay, well, I’m going to take this out.” I held up the trash bag. “See you.”

  “Oh, okay. Yeah, you don’t want to stand there holding the garbage. I guess I’ll just go inside and figure out what to do with my free evening.” She gestured to her still-locked door.

  “Yep. Night, Paisley.”

  “Bye.”

  I patted my pocket again—really wanted to make sure I hadn’t locked myself out—and took the garbage downstairs. Molly’s mention of wedding cake made me wish I’d stopped by the bakery down the street and picked up something. They had salted caramel cupcakes that were amazeballs.

  And why not? I’d just gotten a new job that meant I could stay in Seattle. I’d taken a risk in moving up here and it had paid off. That called for a celebration for one.

  4

  Hazel

  “All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.” ~ Charles M. Schulz

  Erwin blinked at me, his green eyes bright in his flat-nosed face. His long gray fur was so thick, it was prone to matting, and it was time we took a trip to the groomer. Although my cat was typically even-tempered—he didn’t do much other than sleep—he was incredibly defiant when it came to one particular activity. Getting in his pet carrier.

  I was lying on the floor next to the open pet carrier, sticky with sweat after chasing him around my apartment. None of my usual tricks had worked, and he’d escaped from every trap I’d attempted.

  “Come on, Erwin. I put six salmon-flavored cat treats in there. Surely it’s worth getting in for six whole cat treats.”

  He blinked again.

  “You’re being far too dramatic about this. Get in the carrier, already.”

  I sighed and sat up, crossing my legs. Erwin didn’t move.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t raise my voice. It’s just that I’m already stressed about work, and I’d very much like to get this over with. I’m meeting the girls for a run and drinks later, and I don’t want to be late.”

  Erwin ignored me.

  There had been a time when my sweet gray cat was trusting enough to follow a trail of cat treats right into his pet carrier. But the Erwin of today had seen things. Moving car things. Veterinarian’s office and rectal thermometer things. Coaxing him into his carrier—I didn’t like to think of it as forcing—had become a two-person job.

  “We aren’t going to the vet today. The groomer is like the spa. They’ll make your fur nice and soft and keep it from getting matted. We are both well aware of the ramifications of matted fur, particularly in your anal region.”

  I needed help, but even though my friend Nora lived just two floors down, I couldn’t call her. Not after last time. My other friend Everly would have been willing to help, but she was busy with preparations for her upcoming wedding.

  Other than my girlfriends, I didn’t have many options. My only close family were my parents, and they lived several hours away—and weren’t the sort of people a girl could call with no notice to help get her pet to the groomer. And although I had numerous coworkers with whom I enjoyed amiable relationships, I wasn’t close enough to any of them to ask for this sort of favor, especially on a weekend.

  My circle was small, but I refused to describe myself as lonely. However, in moments like this, I did wonder if my self-imposed singlehood had more drawbacks than I wanted to admit.

  There was one other person I hadn’t yet considered: Sophie Abbott. She was Everly’s replacement at her old job, and Everly had started inviting her to come running—and out for drinks—with us. Nora, Everly, and I had been friends since high school, but Sophie fit in quite naturally. Perhaps she and I had built up enough of a rapport that I could call on her for help with a minor cat crisis.

  I texted Sophie, explaining the situation as briefly as I could. A few minutes later, she replied that she’d be right over. I breathed out a sigh of relief.

  It was good to have friends.

  “Don’t look so smug, Erwin. Sophie is on her way.”

  My cat didn’t seem to think the latest addition to our so-called running club would make a difference. I hoped he was wrong.

  It didn’t take long for Sophie to arrive. Her mass of dark blond curls was partially contained in a bun, and she was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans.

  “Hey.” She smiled and set her purse on the table by the door, knocking over my mail basket in the process. “Oh no, I’m sorry. Here, let me get that.”

  “That’s not necessary.” I crouched down to pick up the spilled envelopes. Sophie was prone to clumsiness and this wasn’t the first time she’d bumped that table upon entering my apartment. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Of course. What’s wrong with your cat?”

  “He’s fine, other than high-maintenance fur and a stubborn disposition. I can’t get him into his pet carrier and I need to take him to the groomer.”

  Sophie put her hands on her hips and eyed Erwin. “He must be faster than he looks if you haven’t been able to catch him.”

  “If you’re implying he’s fat, he isn’t. He’s just fluffy.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Okay. Well, what’s the plan?”

  “I’ll catch him with a towel, then you help me get him in the carrier and close the door before he can escape.”

  “Got it.”

  Sophie picked up the carrier and I armed myself with a thick towel.

  Erwin eyed me with suspicion as I took careful steps toward him.

  “Don’t pay any attention to what I’m doing, Erwin. I’m not going to scoop you up in this towel. I’m just walking toward you. There’s no reason to run—”

  He darted into the kitchen.

  “Really?”

  I followed him with Sophie tiptoeing behind me. She had the carrier ready. For an animal who could barely jump onto the couch—he waited for me to pick him up and set him on the cushion these days—he could be surprisingly agile when evading capture.

  Erwin sat next to his food dish, watching me with bright green eyes.

  “Ready?” I whispered to Sophie.

  “Ready.”

  I bounded forward, but Erwin shot past me and ran between Sophie’s legs. She yelped and spun. I tried to chase after my ridiculous cat, but Sophie’s feet got tangled together and she stumbled in front of me. It was all I could do not to crash into her.

  “Oops.” She steadied herself against the doorway. “Where did he go?”

  “There.” I pointed to the dining table where he was attempting to use the chair legs for cover. “I’ll flush him out. Be ready.”

  “Got it.”

  I crept toward Erwin, murmuring soft reassurances and promises of cat treats. His flat-nosed face seemed impassive and for a second, I thought he might let me scoop him up in the towel this time.

  I was wrong.

  He dropped and turned onto his back, ready to defend himself with his claws. I lunged toward him, towel in both hands, but he rolled over and darted between the table legs. Sophie pulled out a chair, trying to make room to catch him, but she yanked too hard and it crashed to the floor. Right in front of me.

  I leapt over the obstacle and grabbed for Erwin. He was just out of reach. My glasses slipped down my nose, but I kept up the chase, running after him. He scurried past the couch and I followed with Sophie right behind me.

  “Erwin, stop!”


  Naturally, he did no such thing. He darted around the perimeter of the room, effectively making a U-turn.

  “Take this.” Sophie snatched the towel from my hands and shoved the carrier at me.

  She changed directions, ready to cut Erwin off before he could run past. I bobbled the carrier, almost dropping it.

  Sophie dove at Erwin, landing flat on her stomach, the towel outstretched. In the blink of an eye, she scooped the towel toward her and curled up around it.

  “Carrier!”

  I quickly crouched down, holding the carrier door open. She took the bundle of cat and towel and gently shoved Erwin inside. I shut the wire door with a click.

  She rolled onto her back and let out a breath. “Phew.”

  “Are you injured?”

  “No, I’m fine.” She sat up and tilted her head to look at Erwin. “You weren’t kidding about him being stubborn.”

  I fixed my glasses, then shook my head at my headstrong cat. He peered at me through the wire door. “Oh, Erwin.”

  My eyes met Sophie’s and we both burst out laughing.

  “Well, that was an adventure,” she said.

  I stood and helped her to her feet. “That was an impressive catch. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Do you want me to come with you to the groomer?” She smoothed down her shirt, then lifted the carrier. “Wow, he’s heavy.”

  “He’s of average size and weight.”

  “Well, it’s not his fur that weighs so much,” she said under her breath.

  “Fluffy,” I said decisively. “But thank you again for your help. I’ve been trying to get him to cooperate all morning.”

  She smiled. “Anytime.”

  “And I appreciate the offer to join us, but he’s learned that getting back in the carrier means going home. I don’t expect I’ll have any trouble.”

  “Little stinker.” She handed the carrier to me. “Be a good boy, Erwin.”

  “Will I see you for our run later?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  We said our goodbyes and Sophie left, thankfully without knocking the mail basket onto the floor again. After righting the furniture, I took Erwin to the groomer. True to my prediction, he got back in his carrier willingly once they’d finished.